Off the Line
by Muircheartach
Summary: Joining the Eastridge drumline was not what I expected it to be.  Surrounded by male dominated ego and a guy with a grudge against me, I'm starting to wonder how I'm going to survive at all.
1. On the Move

_As I was trying to work on Berceuse the other day this little idea popped into my head. I didn't want to start up another story, but I couldn't get it out of my head. I am not a percussionist, so if I make any mistakes please let me know._

* * *

><p>Off the Line<p>

Chapter One: On the Move

I couldn't believe it. I had stepped off the bus and into testosterone city, not to mention the biggest clique I had ever seen. Here I was thinking I'd be walking into high school marching band practice but no, I was walking into some sort of self-inflicted military boot camp covered in ego. I understand that I was stepping into _The Drumline_, but come on people. The ego that was flying around that room was worse than anything I had experienced during my two years marching DCI. It made me want to quit, to be completely honest. I would have, if I hadn't known that doing so would just inflate their egos more.

But I'm getting ahead of myself, aren't I? Let's begin at the beginning. That's usually a good place to start things.

My name is Anne Marie Holst. I'm sixteen years old and a soon to be high school junior. Currently the most important thing in my life, aside from my family, is my drumming. I'm a concert percussionist and have marched two seasons on snare with the Santa Clara Vanguard from Santa Clara, California. For the past eight years I lived in San Francisco and attended a small private school. My school didn't have a very large music program, but when I started to express some interest in music the music teacher recommended that I take private lessons. I started taking lessons when I was twelve from a guy named Matt Laurence. Matt is really the reason that I have any sort of musical ability. He was able to take what I had and helped me to develop it. Matt was also the one who encouraged me to audition for Vanguard. Being the drum corps nut that he is, every lesson Matt would have some sort of cool drum break or cadence to show me. My high school didn't have any type of competitive marching band, so the only real option I had when I decided that I wanted to march was to march drum corps. Matt helped me with the audition music and by some miracle I made it onto the snareline at SCV when I was fifteen.

Last winter my parents informed me that we would be moving. My dad got transferred to a different department in the company he worked at, and unfortunately he wasn't able to do that job in San Francisco. To be able to do his new job, my dad needed to be in Minneapolis, Minnesota and him, my mom, and me needed to move there. We found a house in Appleton, a suburb of Minneapolis, and decided to move there as soon as I finished school. I wasn't going to really be there until August since I was leaving for tour shortly after we moved, but I agreed to go with to help my parents get everything settled.

"Why don't we make a visit to your new high school today?" my mom asked on our second day in the new house.

"Sure, I guess we could," I answered, not really wanting to go but knowing that my mom was going to drag me there whether I wanted to or not. We went to the school that afternoon and were able to speak with one of the guidance counselors (apparently Mom had called ahead). After speaking about the school and my academic goals for what seemed like forever, we somehow got on the subject of extra-curricular activities. "Did you participate in any back at your previous school?" the guidance counselor asked.

"Not really," I answered, shrugging. "Unless you wanted to play football, basketball, or volleyball there wasn't a lot that you could do."

"Were there any sort of activities that you did outside of school, such as art or theatre?"

I really didn't want to mention drum corps, since I've never really been able to explain it to anyone who didn't already know what it was. "I took percussion lessons for a few years," I said, figuring that was the easiest way to explain things.

"So you're a drummer?"

"Yeah, and I play mallet instruments too, like marimba and xylophone."

"Would you be interested in playing in one of our bands?"

"Sure," I answered. I knew that my mom wanted me to get involved in extra-curricular activities for upcoming college applications, so I figured I might as well get involved in something that I was already interested in. I was lead to the band room by one of the workers in the school office. School was still in session at Eastridge, so I was able to talk to the band director pretty easily. "So you're interested in joining one of our bands here at Eastridge?" Mr. Ackerman, the band director, asked.

"Yeah," I answered. "I took percussion lessons when I was living in San Francisco, so I'd like to continue playing."

"We could put you in one of our concert bands, if you'd like," he said. I nodded. "I'd like to hear you play before I decide what band you'd be in. Would you mind playing for me today?"

"Uh, sure. But I don't have any sticks with me."

"I have some that you can borrow for a bit," he said, digging around in one of his desk drawers. "I don't have a class right now, so we can use the instruments in the band room." I played through a couple of different pieces on marimba, extremely grateful to Matt that he had forced me to work on my four mallet marimba technique. As I was walking over to one of the snare drums Mr. Ackerman asked, "You an SCV fan?"

I paused for a moment, confused as to why he was asking, until I remembered that I was wearing one of my Vanguard t-shirts. "Sort of," I shrugged. "I march with them."

"Really? What section?"

"This'll be my second year in the snareline," I answered.

"Would you be interested in being in the Eastridge marching band?" he asked me.

"Maybe," I said. "I mean, you've probably already had auditions, right?"

"We're actually holding percussion auditions tomorrow afternoon, if you're interested."

I thought about it. It was an easy way for me to become "involved" like my mom wanted me to, and the music and drill was going to be easier than the stuff I would be learning over the summer. "Sure, why not?" I said. "Is there anything that I need to prepare?"

"There's a few exercises that they'll be using for the auditions. I can give those to you today, and I'm sure that Ben will take into account that you haven't been able to practice as much as everyone else. If you want to come back tomorrow at three o'clock, you can audition with the rest of the percussionists."

He got up and started to walk back to his office. "Don't you want to hear the rest of my concert band audition?" I asked.

"Students who are in the marching band don't start concert band until after the fall season. We don't have to place you into one of the bands until later, so you don't have to play the rest today," Mr. Ackerman answered. I followed him back to his office where he gave me the audition music and put me on the list for auditions.

"Were you able to sign up for one of the bands?" my mom asked when I met up with her at the front office.

"Yeah," I answered. "I'm auditioning for the marching band tomorrow afternoon."

"Really? That's wonderful!" Mom said. "I was hoping that you'd find something like that. When will you start rehearsals?"

"I guess they'll probably have sectionals over the summer, but I'll miss them since I'll be on tour. The band starts practicing together in August and I should be back by the time they have band camp."

"I'm glad that you've found something to be involved in, Anne Marie," Mom said after a bit. "You were never really involved in anything at school back in California, and I always worried about whether or not you made many friends."

"Even though I didn't have many friends at school, I always had my friends from drum corps," I protested. "And I had Matt and the other percussion students."

"I still worried about you. But this will give you a chance to find some friends here." I didn't say anything after that. I hadn't been involved in school activities at my old school, which was why I didn't have many friends. Joining the marching band would introduce me to people, but that wasn't the reason that I decided to join. When the drum corps season ended the year before, I got bored. I wasn't marching anymore and I really didn't have anything to do. If I started marching band right after I finished drum corps, I could put it off for a little longer.

* * *

><p>I arrived at the high school at 2:45 the next day. If there was anything I had learned from drum corps, it was that you should always be early. I went into the band room to find that a lot of other people had the same idea as I did. Different groups were scattered around the band room, sitting and waiting quietly or working out some last minute issues with the audition music. I found a spot in the center of the room and sat down in one of the chairs. I put my stick bag on the ground and pulled out the audition music. Comparatively speaking to the exercises I was working on for corps, the music wasn't that bad. There were a few things that had originally messed me up when I was looking at it the night before, but I had been able to work it out to the best of my ability.<p>

"You're not going to make it, you know."

I turned to see a black-haired boy standing next to me. "What makes you say that?" I asked.

"Freshman never make it on the snareline," he said, smirking. "The only freshman that's ever been placed on the snareline was Brett and he had been taking lessons with Ben for years before that. You might think you're good enough to make it, but you're not going to."

I didn't know what angered me more, the fact that he was convinced that I wasn't going to make even though he hadn't heard me play or that he thought I was a freshman. I suppose that because he hadn't seen me around before he assumed I was a freshman but if he had actually looked at me, he would have noticed that I was definitely not a freshman. For one, I had been fiddling with my car keys. Freshman aren't old enough to drive and therefore don't have any sort of need for car keys. I knew that I probably didn't look like a junior (I'm often mistaken for being younger than I am), but the fact that he just assumed aggravated me. "And I suppose you're convinced that you're going to make it?" I asked, looking back at my music.

"I was on the line last year," he said. "Ben won't take me off of the line since we did so well last fall. As a senior next year I've got the most seniority aside from Brett, so I'm practically guaranteed to be second snare."

I was going to respond when the band room door opened and four guys walked in. I assumed that each of them was a section tech, but I couldn't tell which one was for which section. "Thank you for all being here for auditions today. I'm Ben, the drumline instructor and snare tech. We'll be starting auditions shortly, but we will be doing things a bit differently for those of you who have been here for a few years. Along with individual auditions, we'll be doing some full ensemble music and marching. The instructors will be watching during the full ensemble work, and your performance during these sections will be taken into account along with your individual audition. Line placements will be posted at the end of auditions today."

After Ben finished introducing the different section techs, we began full ensemble music. We set up the band room and started warm-ups. I ended up starting on bass drum, but the different techs were moving people around to different sections and after about half an hour I ended up in the snareline. The guy who had been talking to me earlier ended up getting switched to cymbals at one point, something that he didn't look too excited about. Ben pulled out different people for individual auditions throughout the time we were doing full ensemble work. From what I could tell it looked like they were starting with the vets and finishing up with the rookies. I figured that I would be at the end, since I was probably the last person to get on the audition list.

Sure enough, I was one of the last people to audition. I got pulled out by the quad tech and followed him across the hall to a smaller room. "Go ahead and take a seat," the quad tech told me as he took a seat, gesturing to a chair across a table from him, Ben, and another guy, who I assumed was the drumline captain.

"Tell us a bit about yourself," Ben told me after I sat down.

"Sure. My name is Anne Marie Holst, I'm sixteen and I'll be a junior next fall," I said. "I recently moved here from San Francisco, California. I've been taking percussion lessons since I was twelve from a guy named Matt Laurence and I'll be marching my second season with the Santa Clara Vanguard this summer."

"You said you took lessons with Matt Laurence?" Ben asked, writing something down on a piece of paper.

"Yes."

"And what section will you be marching in this summer?"

"I'll be in the snareline."

Ben wrote something else down before saying, "You can go ahead and do your audition."

I played through the audition materials, was thanked for my audition, and dismissed to go back to full ensemble. Shortly after I finished my audition those who were auditioning for the drumline took their drums outside for marching and those auditioning for the pit stayed inside to do mallet auditions. We went through basics and marching technique, along with on the field etiquette. I found the marching technique to be kind of awkward, since it was different from what I was used to. Crab stepping was mostly the same, but forwards and backwards was different from what I had learned at Vanguard. It allowed a lot less knee bend on the front and back steps, which felt really odd to me.

After marching we headed back inside and put away the drums before reconvening in the band room to wait for the audition results. As we were waiting I found myself to be surprisingly nervous. Auditions usually didn't make me horribly nervous, but this time I found myself worrying about how I did. Maybe it was because of what that guy had said earlier or maybe it was because I knew that I hadn't had as much practice time as everyone else auditioning, but I was still unusually nervous. After about fifteen minutes of waiting, Ben came back into the band room with the other instructors. "Thank you for all of your auditions. Your section lieutenants will be contacting you in the upcoming days about sectional rehearsals. I look forward to seeing all of you again in August." He taped a sheet of paper on the board before leaving.

Once the instructors had left, people rushed the board to look at the list. I waited behind until the crowd had cleared up to check the list. When I looked at first, I couldn't find my name. "Your name's right under mine." I looked to my left to see the guy who had sat in on my audition earlier. He pointed to the list and sure enough _A. Holst_ was listed on the snareline list. "I'm Brett Kingsley, by the way," he said. "Since you're going to be on tour this summer, I don't expect that you'll be able to make it to our sectionals in the next few months. Am I right?"

"Yeah, I'm leaving for spring training in a few days," I told him.

"Are you going to have internet access at any point while you're on tour?" he asked.

"I should be able to get internet on my phone while I'm gone," I answered. "Why do you ask?"

"If you can get email access over the summer, I'll try to keep you updated on what we're working on in sectionals. I'll also try to send you our music if I can."

"If you want to give any music to my parents, I'm sure they could mail it to me," I suggested.

"I'll try to do that if I can, but otherwise you can just wait until you get back." He paused for a moment before saying, "I should get going. Best of luck this summer."

Later that evening I got on my computer to find that I had an email waiting me. It was from an email I didn't know and I was about to delete it until I saw "Snareline Sectionals" in the subject line. "Hey guys," it read. "Congrats on making it into the Eastridge snareline for next fall. Our first sectional will be on June 5th. Come ready to work on music and be prepared for some outdoor marching. I look forward to seeing all of you then." Included was a list of the order that the line would go in, with my name being listed as second snare. I was pretty proud of myself for getting second snare, until I remembered what that guy had said earlier. He was expecting to be second and I had a feeling that he wasn't going to be too happy about the placements. When I thought about it, I decided to not worry about it. I had three months before I would have to see that guy again, and I didn't need to be worrying about it then. Instead I went back to getting my things ready for tour. Making sure I had everything I needed was much more important than worrying about what some guy thought.


	2. Introductions

Off the Line

Chapter Two: Introductions

"Whatcha doin' Holst?" Adam, one of my section mates, asked one day during lunch break.

"Checking my email," I answered, messing with my phone.

"What, waiting for an email from your boyfriend?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes at him. "My section leader was supposed to email me," I told him.

"Your section leader?" he asked. "Are you cheating on us with another line? If it's with BD I swear I'll beat you up."

"Her high school line, nitwit," Jackie answered before I had a chance. "She told us she made it on the snareline at her new high school, remember?"

"Oh right, the one with the dumbass guy who thought you were a freshman and told you that you weren't going to make it?" Adam asked.

"Yup," I answered. "My section leader is supposed to keep me updated on what they're doing in sectionals while I'm gone. He said that he'd email me after each sectional and they were supposed to have one a few days ago."

"So you're waiting to hear back from him?"

"Yup." I logged on to my email to find that I had no new messages. Brett had emailed me the day after the last few sectionals that they had, which made me wonder why he hadn't emailed me already. From what I could tell, my section back home was coming along on the different exercises that Ben had given us. It seemed like everything was going really well, which made me wonder how I was going to be able to step into that after being gone all summer.

"Hey Holst," one of my section mates called out. "You've got mail."

I went over to the truck to find that I did have mail. It was a large envelope and I started to open it on the way back. "What did you get?" Adam asked. "Is it edible?"

"Probably not," I answered. I opened it to find several sheets of snare music and a note addressed to me.

"Ooo, snare music- let me see," Adam said grabbing at the music. I let him take it and read the note.

"Anne Marie," it said. "Sorry I wasn't able to email you- my internet at home is out. Ben gave us the music for the first two movements of the show. Here's your copy. Try to look it over if you can before you get back from tour. See you in August."

"Looks like some cool stuff," Jackie said, looking at the music over Adam's shoulder. "And pretty tough for a high school line. You must have gotten into a good group, AM."

"I guess so," I said. "I just don't think I'll have time to really look at it until after finals."

"Just hack it out when we have a laundry day," Adam said. "Or when we're on the bus. It's not like anyone can discern who's playing what when we're on there."

"Don't worry about it," Jackie said. "If your high school line is anything like mine was, you're not going to have any problem picking it up when you get back. You've pulled off a lot harder music than any of them ever had, so don't worry."

Any type of worry I would have had was put out of my mind as we started getting into the drum corps season. After we finished up the West Coast part of our tour, things started to get busier and busier and I barely had time to think about anything, let alone thinking about what was happening back home. My days were filled with drill learning, music sectionals, and full ensemble rehearsals. As we made our way further east, we had one show that I was particularly looking forward to. Unlike the year before my parents were only able to attend one show, and that show was the Minneapolis regional. I was looking forward to being able to see them again, even if it was only for a day or two. Things got even better when I found out that our housing site was none other than Eastridge High School. "So this is your high school, Holst," Adam said at breakfast the morning after we arrived. The busses had pulled in at four in the morning, so the first real look we got at our rehearsal site was the next morning.

"Yup, this is it," I answered. "Not that I've spent much time here though. I've only been in the school twice before this."

"Looks like a nice enough place," Jackie said. "Can't be as bad as our last housing site."

I nodded. The last housing site we stayed at was absolutely horrible. It was one of those housing site horror stories you hear from the vets. "So who wants to bet on how sucky rehearsal is going to be today?" I asked.

"I'd say pretty sucky," Adam answered. "No show tonight, so I'm sure they'll be working us hard today. But on the bright side we might get to see some of your high school friends."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Come on, Holst. Think about it. There's a World Class junior corps being housed at their high school. Rehearsals are open to the public, so people are bound to show up. I can guarantee that at least some of those high school drummers are going to show up to watch us practice for a bit."

"Snares, be on the field in ten minutes!"

"And that's our cue to go," Adam said. We started with warm-ups and spent the morning working on music. After lunch we joined up with the rest of the drumline for music ensemble. Adam ended up being right- our instructors were working us harder than usual since we didn't have a show that evening. "Take a break and get some water," one of our instructors told us. Luckily, the snares had found some shade near our rehearsal area and we sat in it during our water break.

"I'm going to die," Adam said, collapsing on the ground.

"It's your own fault that you left your water bottle in the school, Jacobs," Chris, our section leader, told him. "You have time to go get it now, you know."

"But I'm too lazy," he answered. "Donohue, give me some of yours."

"Get your own," Jackie said, pulling her water bottle out of his reach.

"Holst? Can I borrow some of your water?" he asked, turning to me.

I sighed. "Go ahead. But if you're going to "borrow" it, I don't want it back."

Adam grabbed mine and took a swig. "How long do you think they're going to keep this up?" he asked.

"All day, Jacobs," Chris answered. "With the regional tomorrow, they're going to want to get us as clean as possible. This is the first regional where all of last year's top twelve are all in one place, so we want to do as well as we can."

"Hey look, high schoolers," Jackie said suddenly, pointing towards the school. Sure enough, a group of about six teenagers was heading our way. "They your friends, AM?"

I squinted to try to see if I recognized any of them. "The one in the red shirt is my section leader," I said, recognizing Brett, but not any of the others. "I don't know the rest of them, though."

"High school line?" Chris asked.

"Yeah, but I haven't really met any of them," I explained. "I had to leave for spring training before they had their first sectional. I auditioned and two days later I left for California."

Once we started working on music again, the group made its way over to watch us. I noticed that along with Brett the guy who I had met at auditions was also a part of the group. With the two of them, there were two girls and two other guys who I didn't recognize. They were standing pretty far away from us as they watched. Our snare tech went over to them during one of our segments and started talking to Brett. I didn't know what they were saying, but shortly after they followed him to a spot closer to where we were rehearsing. They sat quietly and watched us rehearse for a while, until we were told to head to the stadium for full ensemble rehearsal.

"Hey Anne Marie," Brett said, approaching me as I grabbed my things to head over to the stadium. "How are you?"

"Good," I answered. "Tired and covered in sweat, but good. How about you?"

"Good," he answered. "You guys were doing some pretty crazy stuff there."

"It gets even crazier when we get on the field. Are you staying to watch?"

"For a bit. Our bass lieutenant, James, is marching with Madison Scouts this summer, so we were going to go watch them rehearse later tonight."

One of the girls came up and tapped Brett on the shoulder. "Hey Captain, you gonna introduce us?" she asked.

"Oh, sorry," he apologized. "Anne Marie, this is Marianne Williams, our cymbal lieutenant" he gestured to the girl, "Jordan Richards, our quad lieutenant" a guy to Brett's right waved, "Jackson Squires and Valerie Carmichael, our pit captains" the two that I didn't recognize, "and Derek Jaeger, one of our snare drummers" the guy I met at the auditions. "Everyone, this is Anne Marie Holst, she'll be a part of our snareline this fall."

All of them greeted me except for Derek, who was looking at me in dismay. "Holst? You're Holst?" he asked, apparently recognizing who I was.

"Yeah," I answered. "Anne Marie Holst."

He snorted. "Of course," he said bitterly. "Out of everyone who auditioned, of course it's _you_." He turned away and started walking off.

"Derek, where are going?" Brett called after him. Derek didn't answer, instead he just kept walking.

I was going to ask Brett what was going on, but I was interrupted. "Hey AM, we're gonna walk over, you coming?" Jackie called from over with the rest of the snares.

"Sorry, I've got to get going," I told Brett and the others. "Thanks for coming over." I hurried over to where the rest of the snareline was standing.

"Hey, what was up with that guy?" Jackie asked me as we made our way over to the stadium.

"I really don't know," I told her. "He's the guy I met at the auditions, so it's probably something to do with that." As rehearsal progressed through the evening, I put it out of my mind. I had bigger things to think about than Derek Jaeger and whatever he had against me.

* * *

><p>Before I knew it Finals were over and I was heading back home for the rest of the summer. Finals night was amazing, but it was kind of sad to know that I wouldn't be marching with that group again, especially with all of the people who were aging-out that year. I flew home the next morning, happy to be able to see my parents and sleep in my own bed again. I barely had time to catch my breath before I was heading off to marching band rehearsals. The band was leaving for band camp that Wednesday and wouldn't be back until a week and a half later. I went to my first rehearsal that Monday, still tired and slightly sore from tour. I arrived at the high school at quarter to nine and made my way to the band room. I didn't know where I needed to go once I got there, so I waited to see if I could find one of the few people that I knew. Luckily, I didn't have to wait very long. "Anne Marie?" I turned to see Valerie, the pit section leader.<p>

"Hi Valerie," I said. "You wouldn't happen to know where I'm supposed to be, would you?"

"I'm not exactly sure," she said. "But I just saw Derek- he could probably point you in the right direction. I could get him for you, if you'd like."

"Thanks, that'd be great."

I followed her out into the hallway, where we found Derek. "Hey Derek, could you show Anne Marie where the battery is going to be rehearsing today?" Valerie asked. He nodded and motioned for me to follow him. He led me down the hallway and over to a set of lockers. "Just who the hell do you think you are?" he asked, suddenly turning around.

"Excuse me?"

"You just prance in here two weeks late and expect us to show you everything?" he spat. "You don't deserve to be second snare-"

"And you think that you do?" I interrupted. "What makes you deserve the spot more than I do?"

"I've been in this band for three years. I've earned that spot. Your old school probably didn't even have a drumline."

"No, it didn't," I reluctantly admitted. "But that doesn't matter. I've marched the past two summers with one of the top lines in the country. So you've been here; so what? Just because you've been a member before doesn't mean that you're actually good."

I regretted saying those words right after they came out of my mouth. I didn't mean to actually insult him; I just wanted to get him off of my back. He looked like he was going to respond when we were interrupted. "Is there a problem?" I turned to find someone who I didn't know- he was tall, with short brown hair and glasses.

"It's nothing that concerns you, Smith," Derek said.

"Are you sure? It seemed like it did, Jaeger," the new guy said.

Derek snorted. "Forget it," he said, walking off.

"Everything okay?" the new guy asked me, walking closer.

"Yeah," I answered. "He just doesn't seem to like me very much."

He laughed. "Sure does seem that way. I'm James Smith, by the way," he said, sticking out his hand.

"Anne Marie Holst," I answered, shaking his hand.

"So you're this mysterious Holst everyone keeps talking about," he laughed. "That explains a lot then. I suppose you probably want to get a drum, right?"

"That would be helpful."

He led me to some lockers at the end of the hallway and helped me to find a snare drum. "You'll probably have to adjust the harness," James told me. "It hasn't been used since last fall and you're shorter than the guys who were on the line last year."

"Thanks," I said. "I'm sure I can get it adjusted properly. Do you know if the snares here have their drums tilted at all?"

"I don't think so," he said, taking a moment to think. "I'm not completely sure, but I don't remember there being any tilt. You usually march with a tilt?"

"Yeah. I've gotten used to playing with a tilt since that's what we do at Vanguard. I guess it'll take some getting used to."

"You march Vanguard?" he asked. I nodded. "That's cool. I marched fourth bass with the Madison Scouts this past summer." He paused for a moment. "You know, the fact that you marched Vanguard is probably why Derek doesn't like you."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Derek auditioned for the Cavaliers' snareline last November and didn't make it. He's been kind of bitter about it ever since then," James explained. "He didn't talk to me for three weeks after I told him I made it into Scouts. From what I heard from Brett, after that he put all of his efforts into making sure that he got second snare this year."

I was going to ask him more about it, but I saw Brett coming down the hall. "You two find drums?" he asked, walking towards us.

"Well, I think it's pretty easy to tell which one is mine, Brett," James snorted.

Brett rolled his eyes. "Meet in the orchestra room in five minutes."

I found a harness that fit fairly well and would only have to be adjusted a couple of notches. I grabbed one of remaining snare drums and followed James into the orchestra room. It looked like the rest of the line was already there, some setting up their drums, others hacking away on practice pads. "The prodigal section lieutenant has returned!" one of the guys called out when James entered the room.

"Shut up, Tom," James said, walking over to where the bass line was setting up. "It's not like you didn't know where I was the whole time."

I quietly made my way over to the snareline, hoping that no one would notice me. I quickly found Brett, who noticed how low my snare was sitting. "Need help adjusting your harness?" he asked.

"Thanks," I said. "It probably needs to be shifted up a couple of notches." He took my harness and started adjusting it. "How was your summer?" he asked.

"Pretty good. I got back from tour yesterday, so I'm still in the process of unpacking everything from over the summer," I said.

"James was saying that too," he said. "I guess it has to be hard to go straight from being on tour to learning a new show."

"Kingsley, shouldn't we be starting rehearsal?" I turned to see Derek standing next to us, looking slightly agitated.

"We will soon," he said. "Ben said he might be a little late, but he had some things to say before we split into sectionals so we'll be waiting for him. If you're that impatient you could always get go get music stands for all of us so we don't have to get them later."

"Why is Ben going to be late?" I asked after Derek sulked off to get stands.

"Apparently there was enough money in the band budget to pay for another section tech, so Ben's picking him up from the airport. I guess they marched together at one point or something." Brett finished with my harness and handed it back to me. "That should work for you, at least for today. I'm sure Ben will say something about it if he thinks it's too low."

"Thanks," I said, putting my snare on to see how it high it was. It seemed okay to me, but it still felt a little odd. Like James had guessed the snares didn't have any tilt on them, which felt horribly awkward to me since I had been marching with a tilt all summer. It would take some getting used to, but I knew that it wouldn't be too hard to adjust.

Ben arrived after about ten minutes and we began rehearsal. "Thank you to all of you for your patience this morning," Ben said. "As I said last week, we were able to get one more section tech for this year. I would like to introduce you all to Mr. Lawrence. Mr. Lawrence will be working with the snare drums and will be working with the basses. "

I looked over to see Matt Lawrence, my private lesson teacher from San Francisco, standing near the doorway. Needless to say, I was a little surprised. I had told Matt that I was moving to Minnesota the past spring and that I wouldn't be able to take lessons from him anymore. Matt had mentioned that he had been offered a job in another state, but I hadn't been expecting him to show up at rehearsal.

We split into sectionals, and luckily the snares were allowed to stay in the orchestra room. Matt had us sit in a circle before we began playing. "Since I'm new here and I don't know any of you, why don't we start introductions?" he said. "I know that you've probably already done this, but I know that I won't be able to learn your names if I don't know what they are. I'll start. I'm Matt Laurence- don't call me Mr. Laurence, just call me Matt. I'm originally from Chicago, went to college in New York, most recently from San Francisco. I have a degree in percussion performance and I marched in the snareline with the Cavaliers for five years, which was where I met Ben." We went around the circle, each person briefly introducing themselves. I tried to remember the names, but after the third or fourth person I couldn't remember what the first one was named.

Eventually it was my turn. "My name is Anne Marie Holst," I said. "I'm a junior and I recently moved here from California." I didn't want to seem arrogant, so I didn't mention that I marched with Vanguard.

"If you were here for auditions, why weren't you at any sectionals?" one of the guys (Jared? or was it Jacob?) asked. "I don't remember seeing you at a single sectional all summer."

"I would have been at them, but I was on tour this summer," I said.

"On tour?" one of the others snorted. "Probably in the cymbal line of some lame Open Class corps. Probably didn't even make finals."

That got me going. "If you're so interested, I've spent the past two summers in the snareline of the Santa Clara Vanguard. I spend the summer on one of the top lines in the country while all of you were sitting on your rear ends playing video games."

"Oh yeah? That's probably some good story you tell your friends at home."

"You want proof?" I dug in my bag and pulled out my music binder from the summer. "There's every battery exercise and piece of music that Vanguard played this summer. I can play every since one of them for you by memory."

"Guys, knock it off," Derek said. "We've got rehearsing to do."

The others quieted down and we continued around the circle with introductions. Derek's behavior had thrown me off. Hadn't he said that I didn't deserve to be on the line twenty minutes before? And then he was sticking up for me. It didn't make any sense to me at all. But I knew one thing, as long as I marched with this line I sure as hell wasn't going to be bored.


	3. Transitioning

Off the Line

Chapter Three: Transitioning

The snareline sectional was a disaster. I understand that maybe my expectations for everyone were a little high since they weren't the line I had been marching with all summer, but it was still horrible. Out of the nine of us it seemed that the only ones who had actually looked at the music at all were me, Brett, and Derek. Tempo was off- pushing and dragging all over the place, attacks weren't together, rolls were sloppy, and don't even get me started on the paradiddles. For a group that acted like they were the best things since sliced bread, they sure didn't drum like it.

I'll be honest; I've never actually played with a high school line. One of the nearby high schools in California had a marching band and I had been invited to join, but all they did were parades and I was always gone on tour in the summers when they were performing. I was content with marching DCI because I knew that the people I would be marching with were willing to put forth the effort to produce something that was amazing. I had always marched with people who were older and more experienced than I was, so I never really knew what it was like to march in a high school line.

After sectionals the rest of the percussion section met for a bit to run through the music. It wasn't as clean as it could have been, but compared to the snareline sectional it went pretty well. To me it seemed like we were the weakest part of the drumline, even though we should have been one of the stronger sections. I wasn't looking forward to playing with the rest of the band, but thankfully we didn't have time to do any rehearsal with them before we had to leave. At the end of rehearsal we met in the band room for some information from Mr. Ackerman about the upcoming band camp. We had rehearsal the next day and we would be leaving on Wednesday for a college that was about an hour south. We were spending the next week and a half learning the show and preparing for our first show in the beginning of September. I was looking forward to drill learning- for some reason I always enjoyed learning drill, even though it meant that we still had a lot of work to do. Sign-ups for roommates had apparently already happened, so I didn't get any say in who I was rooming with for band camp. I would have liked to room with someone from the drumline, but it looked like I had been assigned a random roommate. She was in the color guard and her name was Adrianna Larson, but I didn't know anything else about her beyond that.

I was packing up my things when Matt came over to me. "Anne Marie could I talk to you for a minute?" he asked. I nodded and stopped packing up my things. "How was tour this summer?"

"Good," I answered. "I'm happy to be able to sleep in my own bed, though."

"I know the feeling," he said. "What did you think of rehearsal today?" I pulled a face. "That bad?"

"Well, I don't really have much to compare it to," I admitted. "We've got a lot of work to do, but I can't tell if the guys in the line are willing to put in the kind of practicing that we need to do."

"We've got all season to work on it, AM."

"I know but you'd think that with the way that they talk, they'd be a lot better than they are now." Matt didn't say anything. From what I knew about him, I could tell that he was probably thinking the same thing. "So where did you fly in from this morning?" I asked.

"Huh? Oh, San Francisco. I was finally able to sell my house, so I officially live here."

"Did you know that you would be teaching here when I told you I was moving last spring?" I asked. I had been wondering it since Ben introduced him to the line that morning.

"Here, no. I knew I was moving to Minnesota, but I wasn't offered the job here until a couple of weeks ago," he answered. "I got a job working with an all-age corps, so I moved here to do that. I've got family in the area, so I figured it might be a good idea to move here." He paused for a moment. "That reminds me, are you free tonight?"

"Tonight? I don't think I've got anything going on," I answered. "Why do you ask?"

"I've got a favor to ask you. North Star, the corps I'm working with, needs someone to fill a cymbal hole. The guy who was marching it messed up his knee, so they need someone to learn the spot. I recommended you and they said they'd be willing to take you on. They've got a battery sectional tonight, if you're interested."

"I don't know if I could pay for it," I said. "With paying for this summer and fall, I don't know if I would have the money for it."

"I already talked with the corps director. If you join, you wouldn't have to pay anything. Since you're joining to fill a hole for us, they don't expect you to pay dues."

"But aren't DCA finals in only a couple of weeks? I'm not so sure that I could learn all the drill and music in that amount of time."

"Aaron, the cymbal tech here at Eastridge, is marching cymbals with North Star this summer. I talked to him about it and he said that he'd be willing to help you learn everything for the show."

I thought about it. I was interested, but I wasn't so sure that my parents would be. "I think I'll have to talk about it to my parents," I told Matt.

He nodded. "That's fine," he said. "Just call my cell phone after you ask your parents."

I finished putting away my things and was heading out to my car when I got pulled over by Marianne, the cymbal lieutenant. "Hey Anne Marie, how was rehearsal?" she asked.

"Well, it went okay, I guess," I answered, not really wanting say how bad things went.

She grinned. "The guys didn't practice, did they?" I gave her a look and she laughed. "The guys on the snareline think they're the greatest, but they never practice. Well, I'm sure Brett does but the rest of them don't until Ben says something about it. It happens every year."

"It just seems that with how highly they think of themselves, they'd actually practice. It seemed like the only ones who practiced at all this summer were Brett and Derek."

"Derek practiced?" she asked and I nodded. "That's surprising. Although I guess getting bumped out of second snare must have knocked down his ego a bit." I didn't say anything, but she must have known what I was thinking. "I wouldn't think about it much. Derek needed to have his ego knocked down a bit. Unless there's someone to put him in his place he can get out of control." I did end up thinking about it, though. I could believe that the line wouldn't have put in much practice either way, but if I had been placed in a different section or even a different spot in the snareline, would they at least be acting civilly towards me? I had to wonder about it. I understood that I was the "new guy" and they probably wouldn't have been the nicest to me, but were they angry at me because I had managed to be placed so highly in the line, like Derek was? It really made me wonder whether being in the snareline was a good idea at all.

* * *

><p>I could feel the butterflies in my stomach as Matt pulled into the parking lot. My parents had agreed to let me march the cymbal hole, in fact they had been ecstatic about it. "Are you sure, Mom?"<br>I asked. I had been expecting them to say no.

"Of course we'll let you," she answered. "If they need someone to do it and you were recommended, then you should do it. It shows just how highly Matt thinks of you and how good he thinks you are."

"But it's more time I'll be spending at rehearsals, especially since I'd have to learn the show in three weeks. Are you really sure about it?"

"Honey, if you want to do it we'll support you," Dad said. "We saw them perform at the show here this summer. They're really good. Plus it's something you can be involved with after you're done marching DCI." After getting the surprising support from my parents I called up Matt. He was extremely happy about it, and we made arrangements to get to the sectional.

When we arrived I found myself getting even more nervous. It was unexpected, since I usually didn't get nervous about stuff like that. I hadn't gotten very nervous about my audition at Vanguard, so it was weird that I got nervous about showing up to a rehearsal for a senior corps. Matt led me over to the cymbal line. There were four of them- three guys and one girl. I recognized Aaron, the cymbal tech from Eastridge, who looked like he was in charge of the line. Matt introduced me when we arrived. "This is Anne Marie Holst," he said. "She'll be filling the cymbal hole."

"Have you marched anywhere before?" the girl asked.

"I've marched with Santa Clara Vanguard," I answered.

"You marched Vanguard cymbal line?" one of the guys asked.

"Not summer line," I said. "I marched in the snareline. I have marched cymbals in the Vanguard winter line, though."

"Well, you come very highly recommended," Aaron said. "Let's see what you can do." I was handed a pair of cymbals and was thrown directly into learning music and drill. It was a little strange getting back into playing cymbals. I had marched the previous winter in the cymbal line at Vanguard- Jackie and Adam were marching in the winter line and wanted me to march too. Being unable to say no to the two of them, I marched in the Vanguard winter line. It had been an interesting experience, especially since the only marching experience I had was in a summer line. I liked marching cymbals well enough- it never made much sense to me why being on the cymbal line in a high school marching band was seen as a bad thing. Cymbal lines, especially Vanguard's summer line, often had some of the best moves and visuals out of the entire drumline. It seemed that in cases like that, it was all about ego.

We met up with the rest of the drumline after about an hour. They mostly ran the closer from that point on, since there was a drumline feature that needed some work. I watched on the sidelines for most of it, not wanting to jump into the drill during longer segments. It was like my dad had said- they were pretty good. During the water breaks I took the chance to get to know my section. As I had suspected, Aaron was in charge of the section and was marching center. On his right was Megan, who had aged out the year before on the Colts cymbal line. On her other side was Cedric, a twenty-something who was marching his rookie season with the corps. On the other side of Aaron was me, and on my left was Colin, a recent Eastridge graduate. I found the four of them to be much more welcoming than the other section I had been introduced to that day. "So what do you think?" Megan asked me. "I have to give you kudos for picking up the show with such little time."

"I have a feeling I'm going to be spending a lot of time on a practice field in the next few weeks, especially with learning my high school show," I said. "It'll be tough."

"But that's not that much unusual from the rest of your summer, right? With two summers of DCI under your belt, you'll be fine. Besides, any of us will be willing to help you get the show mastered by the time we go out east. Right guys?" She looked towards the rest of the section, who were casually looking over at us.

"Compared to DCI, the upcoming week at Eastridge will be easy for you, Anne Marie," Aaron said. "The pace of high school drill learning is a lot slower than it is in drum corps, and we'll have plenty of off time where you can work on everything that you need to. If you want I can help you with the cymbal stuff when we have breaks at band camp."

"I'd appreciate that, thanks." After the sectional ended, Aaron and I made arrangements to work on the music and drill after rehearsal ended at Eastridge the next day. I'd lying if I said I wasn't nervous about going back to the snareline at Eastridge. They hadn't left a very good impression and even though I knew I was good enough to be second in the snareline, it still made me nervous to be in a room with the rest of them. I practiced my music that night and prepared myself as best as I could. I was prepared to the best of my ability; it was up to them as to whether or not our section would play as best as we could.

* * *

><p>I ran into Derek the next morning on my way into the school. I had been rummaging in the trunk of my car to get everything I needed for rehearsal when he came up to me. "You came back," he said, sounding somewhat surprised that I was there.<p>

"Yeah," I said, finding it a little odd that he was expecting me to not show up. "I'm not the kind of person to give up easily. You guys shooting your egos around isn't going to get me to quit, if that's what you're thinking."

"I don't see why you're here in the first place," he scoffed. "You don't belong in our line. You should just head back to wherever you came from."

"You're just mad because she's better than you, Jaeger." James had walked up, seeming to have impeccable timing when it came to interrupting mine and Derek's conversations.

"It's none of your damn business, Smith," Derek spat. "This doesn't concern the bass drums."

"It's my business when you're harassing one of the members of our drumline. Last time I checked we were all in the same section, Jaeger. If you've got issues with the placements in the line, bring it up with Ben rather than harassing your section mates."

"I think I will, Smith," Derek said before heading to the band room. After he left I sighed and grabbed my backpack out of my trunk. "You seem to have a talent for barging in whenever Derek and I are having an argument," I told James.

"What can I say, I like rescuing damsels in distress," he said with a cheesy grin on his face.

"It's great to know you think I can't rescue myself."

He laughed. "I just know how it is to be an outsider in this line. I transferred here my sophomore year, so I've dealt with that sort of stuff before. Derek's just as cocky as a senior as he was as a sophomore."

"It's good to know it's not a recent development, then."

"No, not really." He gave me an odd look when he spotted the cymbal bag in my trunk. "Don't tell me you're switching sections because of it."

"No, that's for something else." I said, not really wanting to tell him about marching at North Star.

"Something else?" he asked, sounding skeptical.

I figured I had to tell him. "You know North Star drum corps, right?"

"Yeah, a lot of our techs either march or tech there."

"Well, I'm filling a cymbal hole that they have. Aaron was going to help me with some of the drill and music after practice today."

"You mean you're learning two shows at once?" I nodded. "I've gotta hand it to you, that takes guts. I'm still trying to get my mind off of this summer's show, I can't imagine doing that and learning two other shows."

"I'm insane. It's the only reason I can think of as to why I'm doing this to myself." He laughed and we started walking towards the school. James was easy to talk to, especially since he was in the same boat as I was having spent the summer on tour. It was interesting to hear about his summer with the Madison Scouts and he seemed just as interested in hearing about my summer at Vanguard.

The drumline spent the beginning of rehearsal outside, working on marching technique. I was still getting used to the straight leg technique, but it seemed like I was doing better than some of the other members of the battery. We did some marching and playing with our warm-ups, which showed some of the difficulties that the snareline was having with our technique. "Come on guys, it's just eights and eights, we should be better than this," Brett said to the snareline when the visual techs were working with tenors on something.

"Maybe if some of us had been at the sectionals this summer," I heard Derek mutter from the other side of Brett.

"I'm not pointing fingers at anyone in the line, Jaeger," Brett said, seeming slightly angry at Derek's comment. "I'm saying that with the amount of talent we have in this line, we should all be better. And if I have to say it, Holst has been playing considerably better than some of you who have been here the entire summer."

We continued with marching technique for another half an hour, which seemed short to me having spent hours on technique over the summer. We then went into sectionals for a while before meeting up with the rest of the drumline and doing full musical ensemble with the rest of the band. On the way to the band room for musical ensemble, Matt pulled me aside. "Everything okay with the snareline?" he asked. "Things seem a little tense today."

"Male ego," I answered and he gave me a look. "The guys in the line seem to think that they don't need to practice and it's wearing on Brett's nerves."

"I could tell that by hearing you guys play. I mean between you and Derek."

"I'm convinced that the guy hates me. Everything is on his end, not mine. I'm just trying to be focus on my playing. Whatever he does is his own business." Matt didn't look convinced and to be honest I really wasn't convinced with my own words either. I did care about it, but I knew that I needed to focus on other things.

Rehearsal with the rest of the band went about as I expected it to. We ran through large chunks of music and at the end ran through the first two movements of the show. It was nice to hear what the winds were playing during different parts of our music. We it sounded pretty decent, but there was room for a lot of improvement. After we finished there were announcements from the staff, mostly about when we were leaving for band camp the next day. I still needed to pack and with extra rehearsal with Aaron that afternoon, I had a feeling that I wasn't going to have much time to do anything else that evening.

It really got me thinking that I was some sort of masochist for putting myself through all of it.


	4. Drill

Off the Line

Chapter Four: Drill

The next morning I found myself at the high school, loading my duffle bag and drum into the trailer and boarding the bus to head to band camp. Having never been to a high school band camp, and not really wanting to believe the stereotypes that seemed to float around, I assumed that it would be a lot like move-ins for drum corps. I had packed accordingly with plenty of athletic type clothes, a backup pair of tennis shoes, bedding for in the dorms, and any other essentials that I saw fit. I practically grabbed everything I had from the summer and stuffed it back in the bag I had lived out of for three months. Rather than being anything special, it seemed more like we had a laundry day on tour and were heading off to yet another rehearsal site.

When I boarded the drum bus, I found myself unable to find a seat partner. As I wasn't on the best terms with my section and pretty much wanted to avoid them as much as I could at the moment, I sat in an empty seat at the front of the bus and pulled out my cymbal music for North Star. Aaron had been working with me on the drill, but things were still a little hairy about how the music fit into what I had learned on the field. "Is this seat taken?" I heard someone ask.

I looked up to see James standing in the aisle. "Shouldn't you be sitting with your section?" I asked.

"Shouldn't you?" he countered.

"Touché. I'm avoiding them at the moment. I have to spend the next week and a half in that hostile environment. I'd prefer to not have my head bitten off on the way there."

"Then you're in the same boat as me," he said, sitting down next to me. "Although I'm avoiding my section because if I don't I'll end up killing all of them by the end of the week."

"Are they really as bad as you make them out to be?" I asked, wondering if I should avoid the basses as much as possible.

He shrugged. "The worst out of the four of them is Tom. If it wasn't for him being around I'd be able to stand the other three. He's the blonde haired one on first bass. He's got the chops to make it on the snareline but like me he doesn't have the desire to march snare. Besides, I don't think Brett would let him play snare if he wanted to. It takes a certain kind of person to deal with Tom."

"And you're one of those people?"

"I'm decent at it, but I reach my breaking point. Val's the only one who's really good at it." I gave him a look and he must have understood because he answered the question I was thinking of. "Valerie, our pit captain, is Tom's twin sister. She can deal with him because she's been doing it her whole life. The rest of us aren't experienced enough." He looked over to the music binder in my lap. "Working on your cymbal music?"

"Yeah," I answered. "I've been working on the drill, but I'm a little unsure as to how everything lines up with the music. I'll be working on it with Aaron when we get time off so I can get everything put together."

"Do you ever plan on resting? It sounds like you're going to kill yourself."

"I want to get the show learned as fast as possible, so I have to do it like this. We've got a performance a week from Saturday and I'd like to be in it, especially since the next performance is at DCA prelims."

He threw his head back and laughed. "You sure are dedicated, aren't you?"

"I'd like to think so at least. Whether or not that's true is up for discussion." We continued to talk for the rest of the bus ride. When we arrived we were given keys to our rooms and were allowed time to unpack before rehearsal began. My roommate wasn't in the room when I arrived, so I ditched my things on one of the beds and went to find Aaron. He had offered to bring my cymbals with him in his car, since I didn't want to worry about transporting them with my snare on the bus. As all of my section mates were off in a different wing of the dorms, I luckily didn't have to worry about anyone asking questions about why I was carrying in a pair of cymbals.

Once I returned with my cymbals in tow, I found the door to my room open. I thought I had shut the door when I left, so I cautiously peeked into the room before entering. "You must be Anne Marie," I heard a voice say. I looked to see a thin, brunette girl sitting on the other bed.

"Yeah, I'm Anne Marie. Are you Adrianna Larson?" I asked.

"It's nice to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you." She looked at me with a smile on her face. "We haven't had a girl on the snareline in a while so I'm afraid you're a bit of a novelty, especially in the color guard. The girls have been wondering a lot about you, but that's been about it since no one has met you yet."

"I just got here on Monday, so I haven't really met anyone outside my section." She had a puzzled look on her face. "I spent the summer on tour with the Santa Clara Vanguard, so I haven't been around."

We got to talking as we unpacked our bags for the week. Adrianna was a senior and was captain of the color guard. I found out that my section wasn't the only one to have some issues with placements- Emily, one of the other seniors in the guard, wasn't too happy about Adrianna being chosen as guard captain, so there was a split in the guard between who supported Adrianna and who supported Emily. Because Adrianna had roomed with Emily at band camp the year before, she decided to ask for a random roommate this year in order to avoid any conflict. She seemed like a nice enough person and although I hadn't seen her perform before, I had a feeling that she was pretty good at what she did. I could understand how there might be conflict; Adrianna seemed nice to a fault and from what I had heard of Emily it seemed like she had more of a dominant personality. I had explained my situation to her too. It felt good to be able to vent about what was happening in the snareline to someone who wasn't closely involved with the situation. She knew enough about Derek and the rest of the line that she sympathized with me, and I was extremely grateful for it.

We received the call for lunch from our drum majors Quentin and Nate, and found our way to the cafeteria. I sat with Adrianna after getting my food, since I wanted to continue talking with her and also because I didn't feel like sitting with the snareline yet. We were talking about my summer at Vanguard when Neil, the snare drummer who stood next to me on the line, came up to us. "Hey, are you going to come sit with us?" he asked.

"Sorry, I didn't know that I needed to," I said, unsure of what kind of answer he wanted.

"You don't have to, but we were going to talk about some parts in the music so we'd like you to be there." I couldn't vouch for the rest of the line, but it seemed that he at least wanted me there. I hadn't really spoken to him, but he seemed like a nice enough guy. I said goodbye to Adrianna and brought my food over to where my section was sitting. I sat in an empty seat at the table and continued eating.

"It's nice of you to join us," Derek sneered.

"I was unaware that I needed to sit with the section during lunch today," I said between bites of food. "If you wanted me here, you should have told me that I should sit with you at lunch. You can't really expect me to know these things unless you tell me about it first."

"Didn't you sit with the snares at your other line?"

"At Vanguard you could sit with whoever you wanted during mealtimes. If we were needed to work on anything during the break, our section leader or instructors would tell us about it." That seemed to shut him up for a bit. Brett launched into what he wanted to talk to all of us about as well as the plan for the afternoon. We were starting with sectionals and after that we were meeting up with the horns and guard to learn drill. Our plan was to work on the opener since it was what we were learning in the drill later that afternoon.

The snareline was able to get some work done, but it still seemed like they hadn't practiced the music much. We tracked the opener to get it under our feet, which helped me a lot to get a feeling for what was going to happen when we learned drill. We met up with everyone else on the main practice field to learn drill. I was handed my drill coordinates and began walking to my dot. I stood at my spot for a while before realizing that the rest of the line, and most of the horns, were in a completely different part of the field. I rechecked my dot- I was in the right spot, but it seemed like I was the only one in my area of the field besides the color guard. I felt kind of awkward. Were my coordinates wrong? I knew how to read drill, so why was I not with the rest of the line?

One of the drill instructors walked up to me. "Don't worry, you're in the right spot," he said. "It has to do with the show theme."

"Show theme?" I asked.

"It's called 'Identity.' You and a couple other members from the winds and guard won't be with the rest of the form for a bit. It's mostly just for the preshow and we wouldn't usually teach this until later but Ackerman wanted it in right away so we can figure out timing for getting you guys back into the form."

"So then this'll be more of a choreographed part rather than strict marching?"

"For the most part. It involves a lot more of acting than it does of anything else. I'm sure you've done this sort of in DCI before." As he was talking Adrianna and two guys walked up to us. "Good, you're all here," the drill tech said. He started explaining what was going to happen and what we had to do that was different from the rest of the band. The show was about finding an identity, both as an individual and as a group. Eric, who played alto sax, and Alan, who played baritone, both had solos at the beginning of the show and Adrianna was the featured guard member, which really got me to wondering why I was included in the group. There were no solos written in the snare part, so I didn't see why I wasn't off with the rest of the line. I looked over at one point to see some of my section mates looking slightly pissed off at the situation, especially Derek. I had no idea what was going on, so I kept my mouth shut and learned the drill that I had been given.

When we took water breaks I could tell that my section wasn't too happy about the fact that I had gotten singled out. They had taken to ignoring me and going about their own business. I wasn't sure if it was an improvement from constantly pointing out my faults, but it felt like I had officially been marked as an outsider. Brett was the only one in the snareline who was actually talking to me. "How's drill learning going?" he asked me during one of the water breaks.

"It's okay," I answered. "Compared to what I've done with DCI it feels like we're learning everything really slow."

"Really? I never really thought about that," he answered. "Although I suppose we have a lot less drill to learn here, so we can afford to take more time learning it." He paused for a moment and looked around, looking like he was checking if anyone else was listening. "Sorry to put you in this situation. The reason you got singled out was because I suggested it."

I gave him a look. "What do you mean?"

"They asked me a few weeks ago to be the one separated from the rest of the line at the beginning of the show and I asked not to," Brett said, looking sheepish. "I knew they were going to add in body movement and choreography stuff, so I suggested you. I'm horrible at that sort of stuff. I knew I wasn't going to be able to do it without completely screwing it up and I knew that you've done that sort of stuff before. I figured you'd be better at it then I would."

"I'm sure you're not that bad."

"Trust me, I am. When it comes to any sort of movement stuff, I'm completely uncoordinated."

"So I'm doing it because you don't want to make a fool of yourself?"

"Yeah, pretty much," he answered. I laughed. It made me feel better that I wasn't being singled out by the staff because I had marched DCI. I still didn't understand what exactly was going on, but at least I knew why they picked me in the first place.

Rehearsal ended at four o'clock and luckily for me, we had the evening off. Ackerman said that we needed time to bond with our fellow band mates and the evening was filled with floor activities in the dorms, but it was obvious that rehearsal wasn't being held because most of the staff was heading to rehearsal at North Star that evening. I was able to sneak out easily and go to rehearsal, which made me happy that I didn't have to explain everything to the line. The less that they knew the better.

Rehearsal at North Star went well and I was able to march in over half of the final run through that evening, but I still had a lot of work to do. I still had to learn the back half of the ballad and the closer, which meant that I was going to be spending a lot of time working with Aaron on everything. We got back to band camp at 11 and I was so exhausted from all the rehearsal that day that I took a shower and went to bed. Adrianna told me that I hadn't missed anything important and that the girls had "bonding time" that evening, so I didn't worry that the line had needed me for anything.

"Anne Marie. Anne Marie, wake up."

I rolled over to find a flashlight shining in my face. "Whas goin' on?" I asked groggily. I had been sleeping peacefully and had no idea why I was being woken up.

"Just stay quiet and get up."

There were two very familiar voices. I sat up and tried to focus my vision. "Marianne? Valerie? What are you doing here?"

"Be quiet and follow us," Valerie told me. "We don't want to wake anyone else up."

I slipped on my flip flops and followed the two of them out of the room and down the hallway. Looking at Marianne and Valerie, both of them wearing dresses and heels, I felt incredibly underdressed. My t-shirt and sweats were comfortable, but I felt like a slob compared to the two of them. After going down the stairs and down another hallway, we arrived at a door. Marianne knocked and the door opened. "Where the heck have you guys been?" It was Jordan, the quad lieutenant. He was also dressed up, wearing a dress shirt and a tie. "We already finished with everyone else and sent them back. You were supposed to be here forty-five minutes ago!"

"Sorry, you gave us the wrong room number!" Marianne said, grabbing my arm and pulling me into the room after her. "We ended up in Emily's room and she yelled at us for twenty minutes because we were disturbing her beauty rest!"

"After which we spent twenty minutes trying to find a band parent who could tell us what her actual room was so that we could bring her here," Valerie added, walking in behind me. "Plus we did it in four inch heels, so unless you want your head knocked in you'd better shut your mouth."

I was sat down in a chair in front of what looked like all of the upperclassmen in the percussion section. They were all dressed up, the girls wearing dresses and the guys wearing dress shirts and ties. It had to have been three or four in the morning and I had absolutely no idea as to what was going on. "What's going on?" I asked. "It's late and I was going to wake up early to practice my music."

"Why are you here, Anne Marie?" I looked over to see James, who I thought was looking particularly handsome, although that might have to do with the fact that I was still half asleep.

"That's kinda what I'm wondering. It's gotta be three in the morning; why aren't you all asleep?"

"What I meant was why are you here, participating in our drumline. Why did you decide to audition and march with us?" He was looking very serious and to be honest, I had no idea of what to make of what he was saying. James had always been the nice one in the drumline, or at least he seemed that way, but was he just like the rest of the members of my section? Was he trying to trip me up too?

I sat and thought about it for a moment. I had a feeling that being honest would be the best way to do things. "I'm addicted," I said flatly.

"What?" The question didn't come from James but instead came from Derek, who was standing towards the back of the room. It wasn't just him though; everyone seemed to be shocked over my answer.

"I'm addicted," I repeated. "To be honest, it's the reason why I march with any line that I'm in. I'm addicted to the activity. Last year I had three months between the end of tour and auditions. I was bored out of my mind. It's the reason why I marched winter line last year and the reason why I originally auditioned here. I go through withdrawal if I'm not learning or working on a show and I can't handle it."

"The only reason you joined was because you were bored?" Derek asked, sounding angry. "That is the biggest load of sh-"

"Chill, Derek," Marianne interrupted. "Let her explain before you get pissed off."

I could see his view on it. From what I said it seemed that I had only joined the line to relieve my boredom. It might have started that way, but that wasn't how it really was. "It's rooted in that, but there's more to it than boredom. I've spent enough time on tour and marching shows with different lines to know that a line becomes like your family. Everyone has their own personal reason for auditioning or trying it out, but anyone who's marched before knows that you do it because of the people. I go back to Vanguard not just for the drumming, but because of the people that I drum with. The percussion section there is my second family. I auditioned here because this is my school now, and I want to create a relationship like that with the people here. I knew when I moved that if the school I moved to had a band like this that I wouldn't be able to go to the school without wanting to be a part of it."

They all stood in silence for a moment and I didn't know what to make of it. I didn't know what to make of anything that was happening, to be honest. All I really wanted to do was to back to bed. "What do you think, Brett?" James asked.

I looked at Brett, who hadn't said anything the entire time. He was quiet for a while. "I think that's as good a reason as any," he said finally. "Congratulations Anne Marie. You're officially a member of the Eastridge drumline."

I sat in my chair completely stunned. It was… some sort of initiation ceremony? "I'm sorry, what did you just say?" I asked, feeling confused.

Brett looked a little puzzled, but repeated himself. "Congrats, you're a member of the drumline."

"You woke me up a three in the morning and interrogated me to welcome me into the line?"

Brett made a face that looked about as confused as I felt. "Yeah."

"Seriously?" Everyone looked confused by what I was saying. It was deathly quiet in the room, until James burst out laughing. "What?"

"Naturally you would be the one to point out the insanity in our tradition," he said with a grin on his face.

"Didn't you have an initiation when you marched corps?" Marianne asked.

"Yeah, most corps have something whether it's a corps history night or getting your corps jacket. Mine just didn't involve being dragged around in the middle of the night." It seemed like no one really knew how to react, so I just stood there. After a minute, I started to realize just how tired I was. "If there's nothing else that I have to do, I think I'm going to go back to bed."

"I'll walk you back to your room," James said, getting up from his seat and walking to the door. The two of us walked back down the hall to where the girl's rooms were. The band parents seemed to know what was going on, since no one stopped us as we walked back. James didn't say anything as we walked, and I felt kind of awkward walking next to him. "How was rehearsal tonight?" he asked right before we got back to my room.

"Good," I answered. "I marched about half of the show in the run through tonight, and Aaron's happy with how far we've gotten this week. I still have to learn a good chunk of the drill though, so we'll be working on things when we get breaks from rehearsal." We stopped once we reached my room. "This is my room, so I guess I'll see you in the morning?" I asked, hoping that I didn't sound too awkward.

"Yeah, I'll see you at breakfast," he said. We said our goodbyes and I went back into my room, hoping I didn't wake Adrianna up in the process. After slipping of my flip-flops I crawled back into bed, wishing that there was more time to sleep before morning.


End file.
